


Take My Love and Run

by rizzei



Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: F/M, romance???, shitty one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:27:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4204509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizzei/pseuds/rizzei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a monster, he knew, and he wanted so badly not to ruin her like he did others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Love and Run

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry if this is shitty this is my first time writing gangsta fanfiction and i also havent written anything in ages so im a bit rusty lmao

No one, aside from perhaps Worick, would have expected Nicolas to be the dominant type; for the neutrality of his attitude towards human beings had clouded the thought that a man such as himself would hold any sort of ownership(let alone affection) over someone else. The peculiarity of the thought though was not foreign to Nicolas, its dawning firmly rooted itself into the clutches of his brain and he found himself questioning his ability to even _feel_ that way about another person. It's not to say that he had never experienced any sort of romantic attraction before, for he has, and quite strongly, too, but never had he felt the hard sting of jealousy. No one belonged to him, he knew this, he knew his place in the world and it certainly was not high enough to think that someone might possibly be his--like he was theirs--but as time went on and their relationship developed, her association with others other than himself whom of which he suspected a threat to their relationship made his blood _hot_. When this happened, instead of casting his eyes to the ground, like one often would, he would retrieve his hands from his pockets and cross his arms and shoot a bilious stare towards whomever it was he was wary of with dark eyes until their uneasiness of his presence would drive them away. Though it was often done somewhat discretely, she knew what he was doing and would pretend not to notice, for a strange sense of comfort would warm her chest whenever he did. She was used to him not fully communicating his true intentions to her, and these small acts assured her that Nicolas might actually care about her(in ways her previous companions never did).

Due to his reticent nature, it was apparent that he was not always comfortable with others resting with the knowledge that he cared about them, and was often reluctant to share such feelings with them; this was established between the two of them towards the very beginning of their relationship. Her fondness of him made him nervous, and he often would dwell in the qualms that he may not be able to reciprocate in ways that she wanted him to, and would distance himself from her emotionally out of anxiousness--any kind acts done would be done discretely and subtly in fear that he may _love_ her wrong. He was not affectionate--he was crude and violent, and any saccharine preformed he had to muster up from the depths of his whatever it was that resided in his chest. His nature was not for her. He was afraid of her. He was afraid his words weren't soft enough and that his hands were too rough, and when they kissed he was afraid he would kiss her too much or not enough.

He was a monster, he knew, and he wanted so badly not to ruin her like he did others.

The early-relationship anxieties died out over time, though, and he grew more comfortable in her presence--no, he relished in it. He knew that whatever he was feeling he was glad it was not exclusive to just humans, for a life worth living was not of one without the love she gave him. As time wore on he knew his words were just right for her, and his fear of their softness was faulty for she was built to fit with his vocabulary; his kisses were always just right because a kiss from him was unlike any other and always left her breathless. Whatever it was that defined him as a monster she was oblivious to, for what ran through his veins was just as human as her or anyone else, and she knew that monsters were not built the same as him. She loves him, she thinks, she's honestly not sure yet, but she knows she prefers his lips to anyone else's, his kisses, his voice--

She thinks she loves him. He thinks he loves her, too.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! please give feedback if you can-- im not too confident in my writing abilities so itd really help me out because id love to write more gangsta fanfiction


End file.
